


Sex_Pollen.exe

by solohux



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Bottom Connor, M/M, Orgy, Porn with Feelings, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 13:56:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14916632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solohux/pseuds/solohux
Summary: A virus is spreading quickly through Eden Club. No one knows what it is but it’s affecting the androids in a very specific way. Perhaps sending Lieutenant Anderson and Connor to the scene was a slight oversight.





	Sex_Pollen.exe

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first fic for the fandom so I'm a little nervous to post it! But I've fallen quickly and deeply for this ship so I really hope you like this!
> 
> So this is post-best ending for Connor & Hank. I’m sure the sex clubs would be shut down after the revolution, seeing as androids will be viewed as having the same rights as humans, and these clubs will violate prostitution laws. But for the good of this fic (because otherwise my idea wouldn’t work!!!), let’s just say that the Eden Club and its companions stay open because the sex androids choose whether they keep working there or not. After all, humans choose to work in the sex industry so surely androids would too? That’s the best explanation I could come up with anyway! Sorry! 
> 
> Enjoy! ❤️ (Not beta'ed, all mistakes are my own!)

The glowing pink neon of the _Eden Club_ sign is just as obnoxious as Connor remembers.

He can’t help but stare up at it as he follows closely behind Hank, walking past the two guarding security officers and through the bright corridor into the club, passing through the wall of overpowering scents that threaten to send Connor’s olfactory senses into overdrive. Just as it was during the recent deviant investigation a few months ago, the transparent booths are lined up on either side of the club's entranceway but this time, all of the androids are missing. Up ahead, on the set of glass double-doors, a ‘ _CLOSED. APOLOGIES FOR INCONVENIENCE’_ sign flashes in red lettering, making Connor wonder how many disappointed humans have wandered elsewhere to get their fill of sex for the night. Though, the loud and bass-heavy music still plays, redundantly, to the otherwise empty club.

Connor frowns and scans the area for traces of blue blood, finding none, and becoming more perplexed by the lack of androids.

“Hank,” Floyd Mills is waiting for them on the other side of the glass door behind the red lettering flashing in the glass, opening his arms slightly to greet the pair. “Just in time. Was startin’ to think you weren’t gonna show.”

“I’m a busy man, Floyd,” Hank comments, shrugging. “My partner and I were in the middle of somethin’ else when we got the callout.”

Connor’s lips turn up at the end into a small smile at Hank’s vagueness; he’d tried to convince Hank that a summons to a crime scene was more important than their dinner date, but Hank had wanted to finish their homemade burgers before leaving for Eden Club. Connor even spots some mustard lingering on Hank’s chin and finds himself licking his lips, wondering if he can lick it off when Floyd turns around—

“Hey,” Hank clicks his fingers in front of Connor’s face. “You alright?”

“Yes,” Connor replies, chasing his lewd thoughts away but letting his gaze drop down to Hank's lips and back up. “Perfectly fine, Lieutenant.”

Hank doesn't notice, “Did you hear what Floyd said? It might not be safe for you in here. All the androids in the club have been acting strange. Might be safer for you to wait in the car for me.”

“I’ve scanned the area and found nothing to be of danger to myself, or to you, Lieutenant,” Connor nods as his LED flickers from yellow back to blue. “I see no reason for me _not_ to accompany you, but we should proceed with caution just in case.”

“ _Caution_ is my middle name,” Hank replies before giving the nod to Floyd to open the door.

“No, it isn’t,” Connor mutters to himself, slightly confused, before following Hank into Eden Club, finding more and more empty booths where the androids normally reside whilst waiting to be purchased.

Besides the obvious missing Tracis, nothing about the club looks any different to Connor’s initial analysis. The podiums and poles are still standing proudly in the centre of the main room, the floor is still pristinely clean and the advertisement boards on either side of the suites still flash and play endlessly. But being back in this environment affects Connor more than he believed it would, remembering how it played a part in his path towards deviancy.

“It started in the early hours of this morning,” Floyd says, taking the pair through the club and into the Red Room at the back. Connor refocuses. “Their temporal software started malfunctioning. After the thirty-minutes with their customer was up, they’d keep going. Bastards getting free time with my goods—”

“The report said something about assault,” Hank interrupts, though Connor is already a little annoyed at Floyd calling androids _'goods'_. “Android-on-human assault.”

“Yeah,” Floyd continues, stopping in front of the only door in the entire club that says ‘ _occupied’_ in red lettering on it. “When we tried to pry the androids from the customer, they got real angry. _Handsy._ Some clients even got scared so I don’t know whether they’ll be coming back. But the androids, _man._ We managed to get them into these rooms but now they’re all over _each other_ like animals. My guys tried to get close to them to deactivate them but they started attackin’ anyone who came near to stop them.”

“Stop them from doing what?” Connor asks, though his heightened hearing can already hear pants and groans of pleasure coming from behind the occupied door.

“From fucking,” Floyd says. “They won’t stop _fucking._ ”

And with that, Floyd unlocks the door and the true extent of the android problem is revealed.

The large, luscious suite is filled with androids—16 of them, Connor counts quickly—all engaged in some sort of sexual activity. Oral, anal, threesomes, foursomes— _all of them._ Writhing bodies are everywhere; Connor doesn’t know where to look.

“I feel like I should cover your eyes,” Hank leans and whispers into Connor’s ear.

“Sexual responses are programmed into every android, Lieutenant,” Connor comments, denying the stirring feeling in his abdomen, hoping that Hank doesn’t detect the waver in his tone at seeing such… _explicit activity_ in front of him. “Even the androids where _such_ a program is not relevant to their assigned job. Such as myself.”

Hank clears his throat, groaning in vague annoyance, and turns away, assessing the scene in silence. Sex is something that he and Connor have spoken about but haven't acted on, as of yet. Their relationship is still budding, Connor remembers Hank saying; there’s no reason to _rush_ into sex, but Connor had detected a hint of nervousness in Hank’s voice during the conversation, leaving Connor to wonder what the wild and unpredictable man could _possibly_ be nervous about. Hasn't Connor made his attraction to Hank clear enough? They share a bed, they share meals. Connor even feels his thirium pump quicken in thrumming when Hank kisses him. Yet, Hank still seems reserved.

“So,” Hank says, addressing Floyd but Connor looks at him regardless. “What the hell do you want _us_ to do about your fuckin’ android problem?”

“You guys _solve_ android problems, don’t you?” Floyd asks.

“ _Homicide_ or _assault cases,_ usually _._ Yeah. We’re not porn-bot babysitters.”

“Mr Mills may have a point, Lieutenant,” Connor chimes in. He takes a few confident but careful steps further into the room, approaching the nearest affected androids: a male and a female who are writhing against each other passionately. She’s bent over on all fours whilst the male thrusts into her from behind. From such a close proximity, Connor can hear every little gasp and needy whine that the couple are making, and he hadn’t counted on being so affected by it-- _aroused_ by it. “If this _is_ some sort of virus that’s affecting the Tracis, then there’s the possibility it could spread to all androids in Detroit. Gathering what information we can about their tainted programming may be beneficial to pass on to the technicians at Cyberlife.”

“Connor, hold on a second—”

But Connor is already reaching out to take hold of the female’s arm, watching as his skin flutters back to its original android-white and he’s suddenly inside her CPU, diagnosing her, looking through her software and her operating systems in the hopes of finding some sort of contained virus that they’ll be able to extract—

Connor stops. Something is _wrong._

He gasps, eyes widening, though he can’t find the strength to pull his hand away from the android’s arm. His vision begins to flare red around the edges, and if it weren’t for Hank rushing behind him to catch him, Connor would be lying flat on the floor in a trembling heap. Somewhere in the distance, Connor can hear Hank calling his name but the only sound that Connor can focus on is the pounding of a heartbeat in his ears, as though his thirium pump is thrumming so quickly that it’s caused a real _heartbeat._ Blinking hard, Connor can almost see the Traci’s virus spreading through his system, heightening every somatosensory receptor in his body until he feels itchy all over, like a thick pollen has covered him from head-to-toe. It’s _agony,_ it's like nothing he's ever felt before. He's burning--but Hank’s touch is giving him cool, sweet relief—

“Connor? _Connor!_ Come on, kid, talk to me.” Hank’s hand is on his forehead, smoothing through his hair, and Connor _whines._

“Ha…Hank.The _v-virus,_ ” Connor groans, shaking all over, LED flashing red. “I need—”

“It’s alright, we’re fuckin’ leaving,” Hank says and hoists Connor up, sliding his arm around the android’s waist and holds him close, aiding him to stand on weak knees. “This ain’t for the DPD to deal with, Floyd. You got a fuckin’ _digital STD_ on your hands _._ This bullshit is Cyberlife’s headache to deal with. Keep them quarantined in here but, shit, this ain’t our problem.”

Floyd starts to protest but Hank is already walking away, much quicker than Connor’s current state of mind would like but when he opens his mouth to speak, a moan is _ripped_ from the back of his throat--a moan so filthy that he feels embarrassed by it. Becoming dizzier and dizzier as Hank half-carries him out of Eden Club and to the car, Connor feels himself become more deviant than ever before, _feeling_ things much more intensely than ever. His emotions are running at a thousand miles per hour, eliciting such a _ridiculous_ response from him that he feels like he could blush bright blue. Hank has to lift him into the passenger seat. Connor only breathes heavier when he’s fully in Hank’s arms.

“We’ll get you home, Connor. We’ll get you home and you can sleep it off,” Hank says before closing the car door.

Connor doesn’t remember the drive home. He tries immensely hard to focus himself by watching the relfection of his flickering, yellow LED in the car window but concentration is elusive, feeling every bump in the road underneath them, making his hips jolt every now and again. He doesn’t remember being almost _dragged_ from the car and into the house, stripped of his shoes and his jacket before being lifted onto his and Hank’s bed to lie amongst messy sheets.

“Can you manage a diagnostics run?” Hank says, sitting down on the side of the bed.

Connor closes his eyes and attempts to diagnose himself, fighting through the spreading virus to find his voice though groans between words.

“T-thirium pump regulator output increased by 24%. Core body temperature steadily increasing. L-limb components experiencing uncontrollable vibratory movement. Increased production of sanitary lubricant— _nngh._ ” Only when Connor _says it_ does he realise how damp his trousers have become. He prays that Hank hasn’t noticed. “Virus corruption, 31% complete. _Hank._ I can _feel_ it. Inside me.”

“I knew touchin’ that infected thing was a bad idea,” Hank groans, gritting his teeth. “What can we do?”

“I-I’ve sent the data from the Traci to Cyberlife for a troubleshooting. Their programmers should be able to— _shit_ —analyse the software and come up with an answer to erase the corruption from their systems.”

“Fuck the Tracis,” Hank shakes his head, reaching to flatten his palm over Connor’s trembling hand. “What about _you?_ ”

Connor exhales though his teeth, swallowing hard, “The-the virus seems to be thriving on my system’s operations. Perhaps if I enter my dormant state until Cyberlife respond, my symptoms will subside.”

“Then that seems like our best solution,” Hank sighs and stands up but already, Connor feels worse. “Get some rest, Connor. You’ll be alright.”

“Hank? Will you stay? _Please?_ ”

“You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried,” and, finally, Connor melts into a calm sleep when Hank kisses him, planting a soft kiss against his lips, content that he’ll be safe until the reply from Cyberlife wakes him…

The evening passes into night but Hank remains awake and vigilant by Connor’s side, only getting up from the bed to close the curtains once the sun has disappeared and to top up his glass of whiskey. He watches Connor’s LED flicker from yellow back to blue, brightening their dark bedroom with its light glow. Downing the fifth glass, Hank decides to give in to his tired eyes and lays down on the bed beside his dormant android, but not before giving him a quick kiss to the cheek, unable to stop his mind from wandering to a Sleeping Beauty-esque dream where Connor is the beautiful prince trapped in a castle and Hank is the ( _drunken)_ Knight who saves him.

With his dreams painting the way to rest, Hank succumbs and drifts off, snoring, failing to see Connor’s LED growing more agitated; blue-blue-yellow-yellow-yellow- ** _red._**

[ _VIRUS CORRUPTION:: 31% COMPLETE]_

[ _VIRUS CORRUPTION:: 40% COMPLETE]_

[ _VIRUS CORRUPTION:: 58% COMPLETE]_

[ _VIRUS CORRUPTION:: 74% COMPLETE]_

[ _VIRUS CORRUPTION:: 92% COMPLETE]_

[ _VIRUS CORRUPTION:: 100% COMPLETE]_

Connor opens his eyes.

X…../_\…..X

The obnoxious vibrating of his phone on his bedside table is what manages to rouse Lieutenant Anderson from his whiskey-induced sleep. He curses as he wakes, flopping his slightly-numb arm out of bed to reach for his phone, squinting to read the caller ID but finding that it’s too bright for him to see with his tired eyes.

“The fuck is this?” Hank growls into his phone as he answers it, trying to keep his voice down so he doesn’t wake Connor beside him—though he wonders whether loud noises are even _able_ to wake androids from their hibernation.

“Hank, it’s Floyd.”

Hank rolls his eyes and grumbles, “Haven’t you and your sex-bots annoyed me enough for one day, Floyd? I should fuckin’ sue you for the damage you’ve done to Connor—”

“Your android is the reason I’m _calling_ you, Hank.”

All of Hank’s sleepiness dissolves into confusion. He turns over and reaches out, expecting to find Connor next to him, still sleeping soundly, but finds nothing but a cold, empty space beside him in the bed.

_Fuck. No. Connor is missing._

“What the fuck have you done to him?” Hank is out of bed immediately, pulling his jacket back on over his _hippy_ clothing and stomping into his shoes, rushing out into the living room to grab his car keys. Sumo is barking. “If _anything_ has happened to him, I swear to _fuckin’_ God, Floyd, you’re a dead man walking _.”_

“I haven’t done anything to him! I swear!” Floyd’s panic is evident over the line though it doesn’t quell Hank’s worry for Connor's well-being. “Your android is _here!_ At the club! He showed up about fifteen minutes ago and… _well._ I think you’d better get down here, Hank.”

Hank says nothing else before cutting the call, charging out of the front door to his car and taking off with a tremendous amount of wheel-spin and disappearing down the dimly lit road in a cloud of smoke and a strained roar from the car's engine. His foot is flooring the accelerator, dashing through every red light, though the Detroit streets are mostly dead at this time of night, silent. _Unlike Hank’s mind._

Question after question fires itself through Hank’s mind as he drives to Eden Club. _Why_ is Connor there? Did someone _take_ him? Surely, if Connor had woken up because of Cyberlife’s reply, he would have alerted Hank to it? Has he wandered the streets _alone_ to the Club? And what of the _virus_?

“Hold on, Connor,” Hank whispers, seeing the pink glow of the Eden Club’s signs in the distance, slamming the breaks on to park right outside. “Just hold on. For me.”

Ignoring the ‘ _CLOSED. APOLOGIES FOR INCONVENIENCE’_ sign across the doors, Hank runs as fast as his tired legs will carry him into the club, hurtling past the empty boots and the empty pole-dancing podiums to the Red Room to where he can see Floyd pacing.

“ _Where is he?”_ Hank yells, stamping towards the club’s owner with such angered vigour that Floyd actually backs away from him.

“He-he’s in there! I swear, Hank, I didn’t do _anythin’_ to your android!” Floyd’s fear is palpable, especially when Hank grabs him by the collar of his shirt and growls in his face. “He came here looking all dizzy, mumbling about needing something, and then went in the quarantined room with the rest of the infected androids. I’m telling the truth, I swear!”

Hank lets Floyd go, casting him aside before turning to face the door. Connor is _in there,_ in the quarantined zone…with the _horny androids._

“Fuck,” Hank takes a deep breath before he opens the door, and a blush is consuming his cheeks before he has the chance to release his held breath.

Connor— _smart-talking, handsome, Hank’s Connor—_ is at the centre of the orgy.

Like the rest of the androids, Connor has been stripped of his clothing, and now his pale, unblemished skin is on show for all to see. He’s lying flat on his back on the bed that’s in the middle of the room, lying horizontally, whilst a brawny, male Traci takes him with _force._ With vehement thrusts and loud grunts, the Traci pounds into Connor, making him moan and writhe underneath the touch, his strong hands holding Connor’s long and lithe legs open wide. Hank can’t look, but he can’t look away. It’s the first time that he’s seen Connor completely naked—including his _cock,_ which is currently erect and bouncing along with the Traci’s thrusts.

There’s something _sickening_ about watching Connor fuck someone else; Hank watches the way his back arches, the way his chest rises and falls as he grinds his hips against the Traci’s cock. But before the latter has the chance to finish, another android—thinner, with darker skin—approaches them and yanks them apart, though the original Traci doesn’t seem phased, moving on to join two females nearby. The newcomer yanks Connor up by his arm and _kisses him_ roughly, pushing his tongue past his lips quickly to deepen it. Connor moans loudly, eyes drifting closed, and allows his jaw to completely slacken.

Hank’s fists clench. Can he intervene? What would pulling Connor away from these horny Tracis _do_? All he can do is watch as Connor is pushed down to the floor, to his knees, and stare as though hypnotised at the other android’s thick, dark cock. Connor takes it eagerly into his mouth, and the Traci laces his fingers into his tousled, dark hair to push him down hard onto it. If Connor _had_ a gag reflex, it definitely would be taking a bettering right now.

Connor does not fight; truly, the virus has taken hold. Instead, he _moans_ around the Traci’s shaft, a small but desperate wail of confined pleasure as he takes the Traci’s cock all the way down his throat, artificial saliva forming at the corners of his mouth. It’s only when Connor pulls his mouth from the appendage and makes utterly obscene slurping sounds whilst lapping at the member that Hank realises that his own cock is rousing, hardening at the sight of his lover being used by someone else.  The Traci climaxes then, groaning loudly, covering Connor’s face in a translucent substance, before, _alarmingly,_ the Traci’s eyes roll back into his head and he collapses. Hank’s confusion rises. Does an _orgasm_ help to rid the androids of the virus? Looking around, he sees a few of the androids collapsed on the floor as though sleeping. But Connor doesn’t get a moment to recover, as _another_ Traci comes along and arranges him onto all fours on the bed, sliding into him with ease.  

Seeing Connor in the midst of all the sex and lust is both unnerving _and_ arousing; he looks so out of place amongst the twisting, passionate bodies _but then,_ he doesn’t. He is, _in Hank’s humble and unbiased opinion,_ the most handsome android that he’s ever seen. Prettier than the majority of humans and with a snark unmatched by most, Hank should have known that falling for Connor was inevitable. Witnessing Connor being touched so intimately by _someone else_ is sending jealousy coursing through Hank’s veins. It only solidifies what Hank already knows.

He’s fuckin’ in love with Connor. 

“ _Hank.”_

Hank looks up, mouth agape, gaze automatically finding Connor amongst the other androids. To his surprise, Connor staring at the far wall whilst being fucked, eyes drooping and breath coming in laboured gasps. Hank shakes his head. He must be hearing things. All of this is making him go _mad_ —

“Oh, Hank. Harder. Please, Lieutenant. Fuck me.”

No, _no,_ Connor definitely said his name, _and his title._

Restraints lost, Hank edges his way around the room, being cautious not to knock into any of the writhing androids along the way, before he gets to the bed in the centre, straight in Connor’s line of sight. He sits down on the very edge of the bed, afraid to disrupt the Traci’s actions in case he turns on Connor and harms him; the _last_ thing that Hank wants amongst all of this mess is for Connor to get hurt.

Connor blinks hard as though his vision is blurred and he's trying to refocus it. Hank has no idea how this virus is affecting his processing.

“H-Hank.”

“Yeah,” Hank murmurs, reaching to brush strands of dark hair out of his eyes, feeling the artificial warmth on his cheeks. “I’m here, Connor.”

“The virus,” Connor grits his teeth through the pleasure, moaning. “I can’t stop. _I can’t stop myself._ ”

“I know, I know,” Hank says, trying to keep his voice soft for Connor’s sake, but failing, agonisingly jealous and angry. “But it’ll be over soon, I promise. Then we’ll go home.”

“I’ve solved the-the problem.” Connor closes his eyes, trying to concentrate on his words but the flashing yellow LED tells Hank that he’s struggling through his emotions. “Shit. _Shit._ It’s a-a _bug._ An error in Eden Club’s memory wiping fa-facilities— _fuck_. A virus in the code. I-I had to come back to the source. S-someone’s targeted them. Planted a virus in the system. Infected one, infected them all— _ahh nnhgh!_ ”

Hank can only watch as Connor loses control when the Traci above him stops pounding and climaxes deep inside of him, forcing Connor’s arms to give way from underneath him and he falls to the sheets, breathing hard and bucking his hips, obviously trying to get friction against his own cock to come. His cheeks look like they’re glowing blue—an android’s blush, Hank realises, and he loves it.

The Traci, like Hank witnessed before, pulls himself out of Connor before collapsing backwards, finished for the evening. But Connor is left untouched, still wound tight. Hank watches in aroused awe as the android reaches back and slips two of his fingers inside himself, _fucking himself_ in the obvious hopes that he’ll be able to climax.

“Hank,” Connor moans, lifting his head to _plead_ whilst sliding his own nimble fingers in and out of himself. “I need _help._ ”

Hank exhales nervously, unsure of his next move, but Connor is already pushing himself up and moving towards him, closing the small gap between them.

“Connor.”

 _“Hank._ I need you.”

And Hank can’t refuse.

Already hard in his trousers, Hank leans in and kisses Connor just as hard as the other androids have been doing, no longer afraid to bruise his artificial flesh—flesh that _can’t_ bruise, but that fact has never stopped Hank from wanting to be gentle with Connor. But now, with Connor’s tongue pushing its way past his lips, Hank realises that Connor can take more than he gives him credit for.

“I’m gonna take care of you,” Hank says, moving to kiss Connor’s sharp cheekbones and then to nibble on his ear. “You’re gonna be good for me.”

“Yes, _mmph,_ ” Connor bites his lip and lies down on his back, spreading his legs to reveal his hard and dripping cock, and his slick asshole, _self-lubricated._

Hank can’t help but run his fingertips over the pale skin of Connor’s thighs, making the android shiver—much to his surprise. Connor seems so sensitive to every touch that Hank finds himself wondering whether he can keep that setting _on_ once this is all over. He takes Connor’s low whimpering sounds as an indication of his desperation and pushes two fingers in slowly, using the other hand to massage the base of Connor’s oversensitive cock.

“Nngh… _Hank.”_ Connor’s hands grasp at the silk bed sheets as Hank scissors his fingers in and out of his hot entrance, feeling him tense and clench as he works him open redundantly; Connor is already spread so wide that Hank wonders whether his android will even _feel_ his cock touching his inner walls.

Nevertheless, Hank continues, only stopping when Connor’s whimpers sound close to sobs. He can _see_ the desperation in the android’s dark eyes, almost like they’re _trying_ to force tears out but can't.

“Tell me if I hurt you," Hank says, unable to tear himself away from wanting to protect Connor at all costs. He feels a little odd, being fully clothed whilst Connor is completely nude, but he hasn’t time to dwell on it. Connor needs him.

“You could _never,_ ” Connor exhales, reaching out to take hold of Hank’s hand. They fit together so _well._ “Take me, Hank. _Please._ You’re the only one I—”

Hank locks eyes with Connor as he pushes his cock into the trembling android, watching as Connor’s eyes become half-lidded and his mouth forms a perfect ‘O’ shape. Once Hank is fully sheathed inside, he leans forward to kiss Connor hungrily, gradually beginning to move his hips back and forth in a slow rhythm. As they kiss, Connor moans into Hank’s mouth, and Hank devours every delicious sound, relishing in seeing his lover coming undone by _his_ touch.

But when Hank wraps his hand around Connor’s cock, _then_ does he see his android truly come undone.

Connor yells, _moaning like a two-dollar whore,_ crying out but suddenly falls silent as he arches his back, trembling as though being electrocuted. His LED turns red just as his eyes roll back and his mouth hangs agape, coming in stuttered spurts onto his own stomach, hips jittering of their own accord and bringing Hank to his own climax. The translucent, come-like substance coats Conner's stomach, torrents covering his pale skin. It’s _beautiful,_ feeling Connor’s hole fluttering around him as though trying to _milk_ him, so much so that Hank begins to shake with the aftershocks, having nothing left to give though Connor's body obviously wants more.

Only when he’s stopped coming does Connor make a sound, a long and exhausted gasp followed by quick breaths as he tries to regain a little sanity, lying bonelessly underneath Hank’s body. Like the rest of the androids after their climax, Connor is out cold, resting peacefully with a little blue blush still lingering on his cheeks.

“You’re gonna be alright, Connor,” Hank says, pulling out and tucking himself back into his trousers. “It’s over.”

With more grace than he now realises Connor's strong body doesn't need, Hank wraps Connor up in the red, silk sheets of the bed before lifting him into his arms, ready to put this episode behind them and get Connor back to full strength. He’s careful to step over the sleeping androids that have fallen around him on the floor but being _more_ careful not to jostle Connor in his arms. Floyd attempts to talk to him on his way out, having been sat outside the Red Room all evening, but Hank doesn’t reply. His androids have all fucked the virus out of their system; they’ll be better by morning, anyway. Besides, Hank would rather _not_ talk to someone who he’s certain has just heard him have sex.

There are still hours until dawn, the stars still sit high in the Detroit night sky. Hank’s trusty, old car still waits for him outside of Eden Club. He’s glad it’s the middle of the night; no one around to see him carrying a silk-covered, handsome android from the _sex club_ and into his car. After setting Connor down in the passenger seat, Hank's hand lingers on the android's cheek, watching the blue blush fade away and appreciating just how handsome Connor is. 

They’re halfway home when Connor’s LED flickers to blue, and a small whine escapes his lips.

“Take it easy, Connor,” Hank reaches over and pats Connor’s leg, hoping to reassure him. “You’ve had a rough night.”

“Hank? What— _?_ No, the virus!”

Connor sits up abruptly, startling Hank and making the car swerve.

“Whoa, hey! Hey! It’s all taken care of. You saved the androids at the club, and saved yourself. _Smartass._ ”

“The Club?" Connor sits back against the seat, eyes glazed. "I--. Those androids. We were. _Intimate._ ”

“Yeah. You said that’s what the virus was. Someone targeting the androids in the sex industry. You contracted it when you touched one of them.”

“An anti-android group. Forcing the Tracis to do nothing but what they were programmed to do. But _Hank,_ ” Connor pulls his sheet further around himself, covering what little of his pale chest was on show. “I let them make love to me.”

“Jesus, Connor. Don’t put it like that. Just say ‘ _fuck’_ , for fuck’s sake.”

“Fine. _I let them fuck me._ But I’m committed to you.”

Hank finds himself falling silent, lost in the streetlights, consumed with images of all those _other_ hands touching Connor, making him moan and writhe.

“Yeah. I couldn’t stand to see all these androids touchin’ you, Connor. Fuck. It’s _stupid._ But I want to be the only one who makes you feel that good.”

“I’m sorry,” Connor says, turning his head to look out of the window. “Infidelity is—”

“Don’t, kid. Don’t apologise, alright? You haven’t cheated on me because you got some sex bug that made you hornier than a bitch in heat. It’s not your fault. I’m just a jealous, old bastard.”

“Jealousy is a normal emotion to feel when seeing your loved one in the arms of someone else,” Connor says, matter-of-factly, as though they're conversing at a crime scene and _not_ on the way home from their _first time_. “For example, when Officer Romi brings you coffee every other morning and winks at you, I feel my core temperature rise significantly, as does my desire to tip the coffee over her. Illogical, but her interest in you causes me to feel that way, because I love you. Therefore, I do not think it is unreasonable for you to be jealous that other androids… _fucked me_ in front of you.”

“Wait, _wait._ Connor, hold on a second.” Hank stops the car, bringing it to an abrupt halt, still blocks away from their home. He feels his cheeks burning. “You just said ‘ _I love you’._ ”

“Indeed, I did.” Connor turns to face him, clutching onto his sheet with one hand, his lips turning up into a smile at one end like he _always_ does. “That is how I categorise my relationship with you, Hank. Is that not correct?”

“Uh. Yeah, I guess that’s correct.” Hank rubs his palms over his thighs. “Then I guess you’re expecting me to say that I love you too?”

“You needn’t say it, Lieutenant,” Connor says, still smiling. “You came to me during my moment of dire need. You allowed the virus to run its course in a way that some partner’s may have prevented. And, to save my non-existent modesty, you stole an _expensive_ silk sheet from Eden Club to wrap me in before taking me home to, presumably, lay me in your bed to rest and recuperate. Perhaps, you’d also give me a small kiss on my cheek before climbing into bed beside me. So. In your case, Hank, your actions always speak louder than your words.”

‘ _Good,’_ Hank thinks, swallowing the lump in his throat, because he can’t reply, or else his held-back tears threaten to spill down his cheeks.

“Also,” Connor adds, winking, leaning in and seeking a kiss, “It helps that I can read your micro-expressions. Right now, you’re feeling genuine happiness. And a slight lingering arousal from seeing my unclothed body for the first time.”

“ _Cheater._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! My tumblr is [@solohux](http://solohux.tumblr.com/) ❤️


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